


This Is Inappropriate

by SHACKLEFORD



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, M/M, Prompt Fill, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6051712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHACKLEFORD/pseuds/SHACKLEFORD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the HxR Meme Prompt:<br/>Hotch and Reid overhear some combination of the team talking about how hot they would be together/what a great couple they'd make, in great detail. Both men are embarrassed, having never thought about the other in more than friendly terms (or at least one of them hasn't). But now, it's all they can think about. Both of them get distracted by things the other does. Hotch is distracted by Reid's fingers over a map or running over the page of a book. Reid is distracted by Hotch biting his lips or hot under the collar when Hotch interrogates an UnSub. Lots of UST. Resolve it however you please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Inappropriate

**Author's Note:**

> Visit the Prompt Meme [ here ](http://hxr-prompt-meme.livejournal.com/489.html).
> 
> Had some fun with this one...maybe a bit too much. Considering a follow up in the near future! Please let me know what you think :)

Something was afoot at the BAU and Spencer was determined to crack the case.

His first clue of note: yesterday, 10:45a, a collision between him and JJ sending her stack of documents flying all over the floor. Normally she was not one to be secretive around Spencer, but instead JJ scrambled for her scattered papers and brushed past him without a word. Later, she skipped lunch (which she had once described as a "criminal offense"), and stayed glued to her desk, hovering over those same documents. 

The second clue: all week, the women of the office have been giggling incessantly. 

"Reid -," Hotchner cut into Spencer's tirade, "that's a bit sexist." 

Spencer rolled his eyes. "No it's not, but it is incessant. And it is definitely giggling! I don't know how else to explain it. They remind me of chickadees sitting on a telephone poll." 

Hotchner raised an eyebrow and Spencer shrugged back. "Saw it on a holiday card, but can I continue?" 

"I think you have to or you may explode," Hotch muttered. 

Spencer took a breath. 

The second clue: the women were acting in a way that deviated from their average behavior ("there we go," Hotch nodded), which included excessive laughter, hovering in groups, and staring. 

For at least a month now, the women of the office, and sometimes Morgan, had been caught staring at Reid while he worked, or got a cup of coffee, or once when he was trying to go to the bathroom. Whenever he passed, they would laugh. Whenever he spoke with Hotch, they would double over and have to retreat. 

"Which led you to believe this involves me too," Hotch interrupted.

Spencer nodded. "I've yet to determine the cause, but it's definitely on those papers JJ was being so secretive about. I spotted Morgan a week ago acting strangely, also hovering over some documents. Thought nothing of it until JJ happened."

"And you're sure you're not just being nosy?"

"JJ never keeps things from me!" Spencer threw his hands up. "Sometimes, she tells me things I don't want to hear like how much she pooped when Henry was born!” 

"Alright, alright," Hotch stood and moved around to meet Spencer in front of his desk. "What’s your plan?"

\--

3:07p. Hotchner makes a call down to Garcia's office and summons her up. 3:08p. JJ leaves her desk for a coffee break. Morgan is already deep into some casework and hasn't looked up in at least 20 minutes. 3:09p. Spencer emerges from his cubicle and slowly makes his way towards Garcia's door. As usual, it is unlocked, but her computer protections are armed and live. Spencer creeps into the room and begins to rummage through the papers on her desk, but his luck comes up short.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down at her desk and tried to recall the times he'd seen her unlock the mother ship. He could visualize bits and pieces of her movements, hear the sounds of the keyboard as she typed and the click of the mouse. He focused on the keyboard and slowly typed in a password. 

"ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR --" an alarm started screaming and the screens were flashing red and Reid was scrambling to leave but kept falling back into the chair, when, mercifully, Garcia barged into her office to assess the crisis. 

"Oh, thank the goddesses," she breathed, "it's only you, snooping." 

"What?!" Spencer yelled. "Can you turn off the alarms?"

Garcia pushed past him and toyed with the keys for a bit before the alarms switched off and the system logged on with a hearty, "Welcome, Penelope!" 

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Pen."

"Of course, sweets," she patted his cheek a bit forcefully. "Now, what the hell were you doing snooping around in here?! Do you remember this is, like, the FBI?"

Spencer sagged into the desk chair and groaned. "I knew this whole plan wouldn’t work from the get go. It was half-assed and rushed. The whole reason is ridiculous, now."

"Oh come on," Garcia perched herself on top of her desk. "You know I can beat you at that game. We’ve played it before." 

Spencer laughed softly. "Fine," he shrugged. "Uh have you guys been staring at me? I mean, no, you have been staring at me."

"I have?" Penelope's cheeks were rapidly turning pink. 

"And JJ, Lewis, and once this woman from I think the White Collar Unit?" Reid counted on his fingers. "And Morgan too."

"Oh yep, he definitely would be," Penelope muttered, her face now entirely bright pink. 

"Garcia?" Spencer leaned forward, placed his hands on her knees, and stared into her eyes. "What’s going on?"

"Oh, damn," Garcia folded her arms across her chest. "I can't resist that kind-and-caring-Reid look, you asshole."

"You know who I am at heart," Reid intoned. "Now please..."

"Fine," Garcia huffed and pushed herself off the desk and turned once more towards the computer monitor. She keyed in a few things then stepped back and pointed. "It started as kind of a funny joke? I guess?" 

Reid leaned forward and read the screen a few times, trying to comprehend what exactly he was seeing. He could read it and understand it perfectly. It only took him a few moments, and he had it near memorized on the first run through, but his brain couldn't seem to put all of the pieces together. 

"Me and...Hotch?" Reid gulped and turned to Garcia.

"Yeah like well one time Morgan said 'I need to get Reid laid' and I was all like 'while you're at it lets get Hotch laid too' and then JJ was all like 'well what if we got them together' and then I for some reason thought it would be funny to write about how it would happen and...," Garcia sucked in a lungful of air, "it kind of just devolved from there."

Reid turned back to the screen and kept scrolling. There were about sixty pages of what could only be described as semi graphic short stories about Reid and Hotchner...together. There was a story about them going on a first date at a museum of printing presses, clearly a joke, but, as Reid continued, the stories went from ridiculous to almost unbearably sweet (“Spencer, you’re the only one I can imagine being with for the rest of my life.”). He could hardly stay focused on the complete sentences and his eyes kept flipping from word to word "kiss" "hug" "touch" "moan" it all sent thrumming vibrations to his ears and gut and if he stared to long he would surely burst apart. 

"We all got a little swept up in it," Garcia murmured. "I mean we love you guys, and the joke felt a little mean and one night I had too much wine and got a little too sappy." She smiled with a bit of pride. "JJ says I have a gift for story telling."

"Yeah," Reid was still glued to the screen, eyes hovering over Hotchner's name, Aaron. He liked way their names looked together, Spencer and Aaron, kissing hugging touching moaning, and Garcia was more than a bit gifted and painted a vivid picture. He hadn't thought about his boss quite like this. Sure he'd harbored a small crush, but it never went beyond idle daydreams. It was inappropriate. "This is inappropriate," he said softly, closing the document after quickly emailing it to himself. 

"Let me know when you're done and I'll burn the file for good," Garcia smiled up at Spencer, watching him leave the room while secretly sending a text to Derek: “IT’S ON”

\--

The door in Hotchner's office opened and closed, and he whipped around in his chair to face Spencer who looked more nervous than usual. 

"I'm guessing you…guessed the wrong passwords?" Hotch quipped. The alarm triggered by the computers had set off Penelope’s phone right in the middle of their fake meeting. A lucky save, as Aaron had completely run out of work related topics to discuss and the two had moved on to a stilted discussion of desk calendars.

Spencer only nodded and moved towards Hotch's computer, which was already unlocked. Spencer logged into his own email, pulled up the documents, and stepped back. Hotchner leaned forward to read the screen, squinting. He paused, then blindly rummaged around on his desk for his reading glasses and put them on. He paused again. 

"Oh." 

"Yes." Spencer was plastered against the wall, avoiding Hotch's gaze, glancing at the door like he was fixing to flee. 

"This is inappropriate," Hotchner continued, eyes still locked on the screen. 

"Yes." Spencer was inching slowly towards the door. 

"I never...hm...," Hotchner folded his hands on top of the desk and continued staring at the words, even mouthing some; Spencer watched as he sounded out “k-i-s-s-i-n-g” and he was going to lose it if he didn’t get the absolute hell out of this room, so he bolted for the door and tore from Hotch’s office, effectively severing the conversation.

JJ and Morgan watched from their respective desks, locked eyes, and shared a nod. Morgan turned and mouthed to Lewis, “it’s on.”

\--  
The next few weeks were hell for Reid. He had been able to avoid talking to Hotch for long periods of time, and had quickly perfected finding other places to look at when he had to talk to the man. If he even so much as glanced in Hotchner’s direction, he was bombarded with images he’d never entertained before all thanks to Garcia, and now his own overactive imagination was coming into play. The lengthy, detailed dreams he’d been having only added to his stress.

It happened during morning briefings. Aaron would hold the case file in front of the team, long, sturdy fingers cradling the spine of the folder, and Spencer would wonder how those fingers felt on his hips, if they could leave marks; Aaron would be concentrating on a problem, staring at the screen or the whiteboard, brow furrowed and teeth worrying at his bottom lip, fingers quietly fidgeting with pens and his suit sleeves and tie, and Spencer would have to leave the fucking room and get some air. 

It didn’t help (at least in Spencer’s case) that the stressful weeks had ended in the capture and interrogation of their prime suspect who eventually confessed to the murder of two families near the Canadian border in Minnesota, and who was also a total bastard. He kept trying to intimidate Hotchner, make him show some flicker of fear so he could feed off of it, but Hotch had had enough of his games, had been so done that he’d slammed his fist on the interrogation table and whispered furiously, “if you don’t stop screwing around with me, I will take away any protections I can offer you. Everyone will know exactly what you did to those victims, including your cell mate.” 

It was rare and completely un-Hotch like and Reid had to leave the room again. Officer Barbett turned to Sgt. Manning, eyes following the young man, and said, “think the kid’s got some sort of bug?” 

For Hotchner, the weeks had been even worse. 

He liked to think of himself as noble and kind, a good team leader, an all around good citizen and countryman, not a pervert or a sexual deviant, which is exactly how he felt right in this moment watching Reid pour over a stack of maps they had secured from the archives of the International Falls Township Library. 

Like every place in Minnesota, the basement of the library was freezing, forcing the two men to bundle up in jackets and scarves; Reid had stripped off his gloves and hat to better peruse the faded maps in front of him. Reid’s current theory was that the UnSub was picking up on patterns other criminals had left behind, mainly the burial spots, and needed the maps to put all of the crimes from each serial killer that passed through the area together in a geographic timeline of sorts to help predict where the UnSub may strike next.

Hotchner would have continued thinking highly of himself if it hadn’t been for Garcia and the team’s obsession with what they had since dubbed as ‘Team Fiction’, but ever since Reid opened up that document, Hotchner had felt himself traveling down a dark path, a path called ‘Unprofessional Behavior’. He’d actually been looking at Spencer, truly looking at him for what felt like the first time, through the eyes of his counterpart in the Team Fic stories. 

Hotchner in fiction was a romantic, a chocolate feeding, flower buying, Grade A romance movie romantic. Real Life Hotchner was a bit jealous; Hayley had always complained about his lack of finesse outside of the office, and constantly had to remind him of her birthday or, when things got really bad, their anniversary. He never knew her favorite flower, and always seemed to buy the candy she was allergic to. Not to mention she would accuse him of being a bit stiff in bed.

But as he stood there, watching Real Life Reid pour over the delicate maps, he found himself wondering how possible it would be to channel Fiction Hotchner. In the interest of research, of course. Of bettering himself, most definitely. For seducing Real Life Reid? Hotch refused to admit that, but he couldn’t deny the thrill that shot down his spine the moment Reid removed his winter gloves and massaged his cold stiff fingers. 

It was those fingers that kept cropping up and haunting Aaron as the team worked the case. Reid and those maps constantly making an appearance, breaking up pieces of a biscuit and dipping them in his coffee at breakfast, tracing words of a book that he probably already knew by heart, grabbing at Hotchner’s arm when he almost slipped on a patch of ice coming out of the police station. Aaron thought he might just die here and let the Minnesota snow swallow him whole. 

\-- 

A few days after their case in International Falls, the team had resumed their somewhat regular routine at the BAU office of goofing off and filling out case files. Team Fic had not been forgotten in all of the chaos of the previous weeks, and had expanded to include couples the participants deemed ‘highly unlikely’ and therefore much more fun. Hotch and Reid had been pushed to the back burner.

But for Hotch and Reid? They couldn’t let it go. Reid’s dreams had grown more vivid and intense, and he couldn’t stop staring at Aaron. Hell, he even called him Aaron in his head now. Reid knew he hurtling towards some point that he would eventually be thrown from. So instead of leaving everything up to logical probabilities, Spencer decided to take the road he hated traveling on and actually talk about his feelings. In front of someone. To the someone these feelings were about.

As he stood outside Aaron’s door, Spencer thought about meteor strike statistics, the various earthquakes that had rumbled through Virginia, if something in the kitchen could easily cause a fire that would swallow the FBI whole, but before he could turn and run, Aaron was there staring at him with the same tense look he’d been giving Spencer since their discovery.

“Come in?” Aaron didn’t mean for that to be a question, and he inwardly cursed at himself as Spencer crossed the threshold into his office. 

"So...," Spencer started then stopped, suddenly queasy with anxiety.

"So...," Aaron coughed, shuffled some papers on his desk. A silence enveloped the two, practically strangled them in its obvious awkwardness, but neither man could look each other in the eye.

Finally, Spencer took a step towards the ledge. "Where do we go from here?"

"From where?" Aaron still refused to make eye contact, focusing on his computer screen instead.

"From...," Spencer faltered. He had no idea what he was doing which was a sensation he rarely experienced. Relationships of all types were a series of negotiations to Reid, and he preferred it that way. He made few demands on others, and in return expected they make few demands on him. But the contract silently written between him and Aaron had been totally violated. Spencer knew it had to be rewritten, despite Aaron's comfort in simply ignoring what had transpired.

"We’re somewhere, but I don't know exactly where," Spencer ground out before he could think. "You were my boss before..."

"And I still am," Aaron cut in, finally looking at Spencer, not into his eyes but at his chin.

"Yes, but..." Spencer faltered again. Too many words were filling his throat and choking him.

"It was inappropriate," Aaron said softly.

"Yes, it was," Spencer agreed, head hung. This was going nowhere fast.

"But...," Aaron paused and gathered his courage, "Penelope is quite the writer. I had no idea she was so talented."

Spencer couldn't help but grin at that. He looked up and, finally, Aaron was looking him in the eye, his smile warm and open. "She does paint quite a picture."

Aaron nodded. "Although she does make me out to be some sort of...knight in shining armor," he continued. "I always thought you were strong enough on your own. I could hardly even remember our anniversary when Hayley was still alive. Definitely not the romantic hero Garcia is picturing."

"Oh I'm sure it's down there somewhere," Spencer replied, cheeks quickly turning pink from the casual compliment Hotch had bestowed. "You seem like you care deeply for your family. For Jack. Sometimes people have a difficult time expressing those feelings if they simply aren't there."

Aaron shrugged. "You are a genius, so you're probably right."

"It’s only a small probability," Spencer smiled. "And you're right, I'm definitely not a damsel in distress type. But I can't see you being one either, so her creative decision makes sense from an outsider's perspective."

"I haven't even ever...," Hotch stopped himself and shook his head. "No, no, that's definitely not appropriate."

"Oh it's fine." Spencer stepped forward, emboldened. "We were in a semi erotic fan fiction compendium together, so at this point nothing can be off limits, right?"

Aaron looked up and met Spencer's inquisitive gaze. Despite every professional bone in his body screaming out for him to stop, to end this conversation, and crush every future mention of it, his heart was asking what professionalism even meant in this case. Spencer did not approach him initially because he felt violated or threatened; he wanted to share the experience. What they were doing, Hotchner's heart reasoned, was making a human connection.

"Well if you promise not to say anything," Aaron said, gesturing at the empty chair in front of his desk, "Although I doubt this will be an earth shattering revelation...I've never even ever been with another man."

"Definitely well below earth shattering," Spencer muttered, taking a seat.

"Like I said, doubts were low," Aaron snapped back. "But regardless, it was never a thought before...all of this."

"So you're saying Garcia is actually some sort of magic, sexuality altering writer?"

"Did you want me to continue with this secret sharing or would you rather make fun of me instead?"

"I'm sorry you're just...so cute."

Aaron paused, blinked, "excuse me?"

Spencer leaned forward and placed his hands on Aaron's desk, fingers splayed and just barely infringing on Aaron's personal bubble, so firmly and defiantly toeing the line of acceptability. "I always had some sort of thought, I mean," he coughed, anxious, "like I said I'm not the damsel in distress type; pure and virginal, the fairest of the fair. Quite the opposite actually. I've been with men before, women too, but I've always had a bit of a crush."

Aaron audibly gulped. "Me?"

Spencer grinned and nodded. "Duh."  
Aaron was silent for a moment. Finally, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘duh’ before.” 

“We’re all capable of changing, Aaron,” Spencer murmured, eyes sparkling with something that made Aaron want to flee or, rather, pull Spencer over his desk and kiss him senseless. Fiction Aaron would do just that. Fiction Aaron would take charge, pull this man in by his tie, tangle his hands through that short crop of curls, and tell him all about the dreams he’d been having, the dreams that had been waking him up in the middle of the night and forcing him to take a cold shower.

“I suppose so,” Aaron murmured. Slowly, Spencer’s fingers breached his bubble, cautiously entwined their hands together, and Aaron sucked in a tight breath.

“Is this alright?” Spencer asked softly, his thumb stroking the rough skin of Aaron’s hands, tracing the veins and bones underneath.

Aaron could only nod. Then, finally, from the depths of a place he never even thought existed, he untangled their hands, grabbed Spencer by his shoulders, and pulled him in close. Their lips collided, teeth bumping, and lips almost missing their target, but still Spencer let out a tiny moan that sent shivers down Aaron’s spine, humming at the base of that mysterious place and urging him forward down this wholly unprofessional path. 

He moved his hands from Spencer’s shoulders, cradled Spencer’s face between them, and finally they connected in a kiss so soft Aaron thought he would crumble. His brain was furiously whispering, “finally” over and over again, his heart was thrumming in his chest, and Spencer made those soft little moans every time Aaron nipped at his bottom lip. 

Spencer was blown away, barely noticed that his arms had started to fall asleep from leaning on Aaron’s desk; all he could think about was falling deeper and deeper into Aaron, his boss, a man he’d once harbored lustful thoughts for, but never imagined they would become real. Finally, his arms gave out, and Spencer broke the kiss and collapsed on Aaron’s desk.

The sudden shock made Aaron freeze for a moment before he looked down at Spencer, who was panting softly on a stack of paperwork. “Wow,” Spencer whispered.

“Are you alright?” Aaron felt a laugh start to bubble up. Spencer gazed up at him and Aaron did not resist the urge to brush the hair out of his eyes. 

“More than alright,” Spencer said. “My arms fell asleep though.” 

“I can see that.”

“Will you just come over here and kiss me some more?”

The laugh burst and Aaron immediately swept around his desk, gathered Spencer into his arms, and kissed him soundly, smile still on his lips. 

Spencer hummed contentedly before pulling back. “I knew you could be my knight in shining armor.”

Aaron bit at Spencer’s bottom lip teasingly. “And you, my damsel in distress. Although I am curious…”

Spencer pulled back and clutched at Aaron’s shoulders. “About?”

“Well I’m wholly inexperienced,” Aaron continued, face immediately flushing red. “And you said you’re hardly the blushing virgin…”

Spencer could only grin like a fool. He nodded vigorously and pulled Aaron in close, their hips flush against each other. “I’d be honored to teach you everything I know, sir.”

\--

Outside of Hotch’s office, the team had gathered in a huddle around the window and door. They could only catch snippets thanks to the bullet and fireproof wood, but JJ had the prime spot where the window blinds left a small corner of visibility through the glass.

“Alright, losers,” she cried, holding her hands out. “Pay up!”

“Yeah, right,” Morgan bemoaned. “Like they’re actually going to hook up in there.”

“They ARE hooking up,” said Lewis, who’d gone to JJ’s spot to verify. “I mean they’re definitely making out, and I always considered that a form of hooking up.”

Morgan rolled his eyes and looked to Rossi for back up. “Just give it up,” Rossi sighed, fumbling in his pockets for his wallet. “Not everyone considers full blown sex to be the first move, Derek. You lost this one.”

Morgan stuffed a wad of $10s in JJ’s hand. “Like that’s my first move,” he replied incredulously. “You gotta at least do a little hip action.” He demonstrated by swaying his hips and moving close to Garcia.

“Oh back off,” Garcia snapped, also fishing out a wad of cash and stuffing it in JJ’s palms. “I am in no mood for your sexy times, you told me that this was a sure thing!” 

“Oh, but baby girl, I didn’t count on your words being so sweet on them,” Morgan replied. Garcia only rolled her eyes, but she softened just the slightest. 

“Look, guys,” JJ cut in. “It’s alright. You may not have won this time, but Hotch and Reid did, and isn’t that what really mattered in the end?”

“Says the woman who just cleaned us all out,” Lewis muttered. 

“Let’s go for drinks then, on me!” JJ held up her wad of cash and gestured for the group to follow.

“Should we get the guys?” Rossi asked. 

Garcia was already peeking in the corner gap of the window. “They seem just fine without us.”

“WE ARE!” cried Hotch and Reid from the office. The door whipped open and an incredibly disheveled Hotchner poked his head out. “Here,” he thrust a couple $20s in JJ’s hand. “Buy yourselves some dinner, just get the hell out.” 

“And bring us back some cake!” said Reid from over Hotch’s shoulder.

The team silently obeyed, all except for Garcia, who leaned in and pinched both of their cheeks. “You’re welcome, boys,” she cooed.

“Get out of here, Pen. And thanks. This was all incredibly inappropriate, and incredibly worth it.”

And with that, Penelope practically skipped out of the BAU, already drafting up ideas for the next installment of the Spencer and Hotchner Team Fic Extravaganza. 

 

 

 

 

THE END.


End file.
